


deja you

by SafelyCapricious



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dark, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 15:57:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7445128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SafelyCapricious/pseuds/SafelyCapricious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma blinks awake, feeling like she’s still floating a little which means she must be on pain medication, probably morphine, in what looks like a hospital bed. Ward is holding her hand when she wakes up and she smiles to see him sleeping there, uncomfortably bent over with his hand loosely curled around her own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	deja you

**Author's Note:**

> shineyma prompted “You lied to me.” 
> 
> And since I've read a lot of weird shit on the beach, including horror/thriller, this is getting the WSsummer beach book tag, enjoy.
> 
> Check end notes for more complete warnings.

Jemma blinks awake, feeling like she’s still floating a little which means she must be on pain medication, probably morphine, in what looks like a hospital bed. Ward is holding her hand when she wakes up and she smiles to see him sleeping there, uncomfortably bent over with his hand loosely curled around her own.

The last thing she remembers is the grenade on the train in Italy. He’d been injured the last she’d seen – she can’t see any kind of bandage or blood through his Henley, so either she’s been out for a while or the wound was a lot less serious than she’d thought. That Ward is there is a good sign – that Fitz or Skye isn’t is more concerning. She’s glad she woke up at all, to be honest, she’d seen the typical blue glow of dendrotoxin, but they’d never put it in grenades, so she wasn’t entirely sure what would happen. To be fair, she’s still not entirely sure what did happen – but she’s alive and she’ll take it.

She shifts her head slightly, expecting pain of some sort – but there’s none. She wiggles her toes next and starts to take closer notice of her body when that doesn’t hurt or even feel like stretching. She hasn’t been here long if her muscles haven’t started to atrophy at least a little – which means it probably _was_ some sort of dendrotoxin.

Well. That’s a relief.

It doesn’t explain the morphine feeling though – unless…She’s brought out of her thought by movement at the corner of her vision and she sees Ward peering at her, slight frown in place. “Simmons?”

She smiles and pats his hand that’s still holding hers. “Did the dendrotoxin in the grenade cause some sort of neural feedback loop? I imagine I would have to be shocked out of that with some amount of electricity, yes?”

He grins at her, wider than she thinks she’s ever seen him smile and she thinks that Skye would make a joke about him turning into a real boy here, but instead it just warms her. She knows it means that she really was in bad shape for him to be expressing so much emotion, but, well, it’s a _very_ nice smile.

He squeezes her hand and leans forward to brush some hair from her face, she blinks a bit at the unexpected tenderness, but doesn’t say anything. “I don’t know the exact details – there was an injection of some sort and a crash cart I think but –“ he shrugs and peers at her through his eyelashes, “Coulson approved it all, I was on guard duty then. He's the one who had you moved here.”

She blinks and asks, pit of dread growing in her stomach, “Coulson? Not Fitz?” Something isn’t right.

His expression falls at her question and she wants to take it back, but she can’t. “You don’t remember,” he says after a long moment.

Her chest feels tight and she can feel her breath getting shallow. “What don’t I remember?” He doesn’t say anything, just avoids looking at her and so she asks, voice higher, “Ward?”

He looks up and she can see his eyes are wet and then he’s pulling her into his chest and rubbing her back and speaking. Her brain refuses to believe what he’s saying and for several long moments the phrase “Fitz is dead” is just white noise and—

She breaks and starts to sob, fingers curled tightly in his shirt as he makes soothing noises into her hair. “Shhh, take a deep breath, that’s a good girl, there you go,” he says as she finally manages to get herself somewhat under control.

“How?” she finally is able to ask, still clinging tightly to him.

He rubs her back, “Ian Quinn shot him – we couldn’t save him.”

She has no idea what he’s talking about, but as soon as he tells her it wasn’t the grenade on the train in Italy that had landed her in bed she remembers, hazily, the events he’s describing. She feels numb and she thinks it must be something in their dendrotoxin formula that took some of her memories with it, momentarily. The more he talks though, the more she remembers and the more she feels like she’s been here before.

Numbness settles over her, and once he’s done telling her all that’s happened he helps her out of bed. She doesn’t need the help, physically, but she’s glad to have him to lean on and she tries to offer him a wan smile before heading into the indicated wash room.

She feels better after her shower. When she emerges she can smell food and she gratefully makes her way into a small kitchen, the last room in the small private hospital suite. Or at least, she's still assuming she's in a hospital, or maybe a medical wing, the beds are very distinctive. “Where are we?” she asks as she tries not to feel warm with how domestic this feels – her heart still hurts for Fitz but it was almost a year ago and she knows she’ll always miss him but – she can see _him_. Fitz is lying on the floor of this very kitchen, clutching his bloody guts and saying, “Run Jemma, _run_!” and she drops the towel she was using to dry her hair and then he’s gone but she knows this isn’t _right_.

“You lied to me,” she says on a gasp, hand pressed tight to her stomach like she’s the one who was shot, words forming without her consent and then he turns around and looks at her and she’s frozen.

“Oh no,” Ward says, and she can see that all the warmth and humor has bled out of his eyes, leaving them dead and cold, “we were so close this time.”

She takes a stumbling step back, her knees are weak and she’s got nowhere to go but her instincts are screaming at her to run – the Fitz from her memories is telling her to run – and she’s expecting him to draw a gun or an ICER or something. Instead he twists his watch around and presses firmly on the face of it.

She’s aware of losing all feeling in her legs and of him catching her as she falls – through the rushing in her ears she can hear him say, “I think I have it, next time it’ll work,” and then her world goes dark and silent and she’s not aware of anything.

*** 

She blinks awake, feeling like she’s still floating a little which means she must be on pain medication, probably morphine, in what looks like a hospital bed. Ward is holding her hand when she wakes up and she smiles to see him sleeping there, uncomfortably bent over with his hand loosely curled around her own.

She reaches out to wake him, tracing her fingers over the curve of his cheek as he blinks awake sleepily.

**Author's Note:**

> My writing tumblr can be found [here](http://capriciouswrites.tumblr.com/)! Come say hi and give me a prompt.
> 
>  
> 
> Warnings:  
> A character is dead at the start of the fic but the memory of them dying of a gunshot wound shows up in the fic and there's clearly mental manipulation going on.


End file.
